The Baby Ford Job
by LimeFlamingo
Summary: UPDATE! Nathan Ford had all but begged his pregnant wife to stay in bed. Unfortunately for him, Sophie Devereaux is neither an average wife, nor one to sit out on a con. What follows neither of them could predict, but the team will have to find their way through. Full of Leverage team bickering, cons and fluff. Nate/Sophie. Some Parker/Hardison. Rated M for safety. Please review :)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Leverage is not mine, I'm just admiring. Enjoy and review!**

It was just another day at Leverage HQ, Portland edition. The thief, the hacker, the hitter and the mastermind sat around the table, mid briefing at about half their normal volume. The fifth member of their team was asleep upstairs and whoever woke her up had to buy the rest of the team dinner; Nate was sure that would keep them quiet. Despite their very best efforts, however, they heard footsteps above their heads before long. Nathan Ford let out a completely audible sigh. Parker giggled, Alec Hardison joined in, but off a look from Nate, Eliot Spencer punched him and the laughing subsided briefly. The footsteps same closer, then slowly started down the stairs. Nate sighed again, hardly able to imagine what sort of new hell was about to rain down on him.

Enter Sophie Devereaux; 36 weeks pregnant and beaming with mischief. She knew full well she was supposed to be in bed – her husband had practically begged her to stay there. It was sweet, she thought, except that they were working on a con. She loved being pregnant, and was surprised, though thrilled, to have created a small little person with the love of her life, and she would gladly concede to that love's request to stay in bed once the job was done. Sophie had never sat a con out before and she'd be damned if she was going to start now. She was very near to embarking on several con-less years of her life, why start early? As she reached the bottom of the steps and he was sure she wasn't turning around, Nate hung his head in failure.

"Bed rest, Sophie. It's such a simple concept."

"You put me on bed rest so you wouldn't have to deal with me. Dr. Spencer here does not think it is medically necessary." She snaked her arm through Eliot's.

"Dr. Spencer is a) not a real doctor, more of a midwife -" Eliot was not a fan of that title.

"Watch it, man."

"And b) he is taking orders from me."

"Orders! So romantic, Mr. Ford." Sophie mocked, her hand on her hip.

"It is romantic!"

"Have you been listening, Parker?"

"Yeah! He cares about you so much that his brain is completely fried!"

"That's what you want in romance?" Hardison was in disbelief. "I love you plenty, but I'm keeping my brain."

"We'll see what happens when we start popping out babies."Parker tapped his arm.

"Oo!" Sophie's eyebrows shot up.

"Not – not just yet." Hardison squashed the peanut gallery.

"Jeeze, one at a time for cryin' out loud." Eliot yanked his arm out of Sophie's grasp.

"What, we're not friends anymore?"

"Hormones." Nate mumbled.

"I heard that and I swear I will shoot you."

"My mistake. No hormones at all." Nate chided, hands up in false surrender. Sophie growled.

"Sophie…It's just…" Eliot trailed off.

"Just what?" She snapped.

"I've spent way too much time looking at…parts of you that aren't your face. So no, we can't really be friends right now." He stared straight ahead.

"Eliot, I'm hurt."

"I can be your _doctor_," he shot a deliberate look at Nate, "or your friend. Not both."

"We're still your friends" Hardison added, noting that the grifter looked about ready to cry. Parker chimed in to help.

"Yeah, we have to be!" She shrugged, "I've never even seen your –"

"That's enough talk about my wife's vagina!" Nathan Ford was astonished at his own sentence. "See what you did, Soph? You got up, and we're now having a group discussion about – please go back to bed." Reaching new levels of defeat, Nate slowly banged his head into the wall before returning, with great force, to next week's con.

The team did their best to refocus from what had been a line-crossing conversation. Sophie pouted and made her way into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and finding nothing of appeal. Nate winced as she open and slammed every single cabinet in the house. He knew she was imagining various limbs of his caught in the smashing doors. Settling on a bag of chips, Sophie made her way back to the briefing.

"So what's my part?" Sophie, who was very much the opposite of in bed, asked with feigned innocence.

Nate eyed his heavily pregnant wife with exasperation. If she insisted on ignoring his wishes, he could do the same.

"Nate, I asked you a question." She pressed, a note of warning in her voice.

"You don't have a part." Nate shot her a counterfeit smile and moved on. He returned to explaining how Betty Larson, their mark, kept all the files on people whom she had fired and subsequently collected their pensions, on a server in the penthouse of Scholasticar's corporate headquarters. "Parker will get the files onto a zip drive; Hardison will disable the security system."

"But Larson checks the server room herself every hour. How are we supposed to distract her?" Hardison challenged.

"Eliot, that's where you come in."

"Okay, but I gotta take out the six guards along Parker's escape route first."

"Well, then I can –"

"Sounds like you could use one more." Sophie triumphantly interrupted Nate.

"Well…" Nate trailed off, "But actually…if we…"

The room was silent, save for the sound of Sophie licking potato chip crumbs off her fingers. They needed her. They all looked to Nate. Nate tossed the remote onto the table, got up, and promptly poured himself a drink.

"Looks like I'm in." The grifter grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

Almost a week had gone by since Sophie had forcefully reactivated herself as a member of the team and the con was set to begin the next morning. They had spent all day doing recon and making the final preparations for the following day, and at last Nate and Sophie were finally alone. The moment the others had left the two had immediately made their way upstairs to get into bed. Nate watched Sophie as he stripped down to his boxers and threw on a t-shirt. It was as though she was moving in slow motion; she was exhausted.

"Soph, please consider staying behind."

"Well when you put it like that it does sound fun!" She mocked him as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"It's not a good idea for anyone to be on any job thirty-eight weeks into a pregnancy! This one especially is too…too…much." He couldn't help but get lost in her body as she completed her undressing ritual. She looked so radiant, magnificent. And though she'd never believe him, he wasn't only looking at her breasts.

"Thirty-seven." She paused. "Alright, and six days. Thirty-seven weeks and six days. I know, darling, I do, but I'm going mad in this room!"

"You can go downstairs!"

"And once the baby's born we'll be holed up here even longer."

"Well I'm kind of looking forward that." Nate said quietly as he got into bed. She thought for a moment he looked like a small puppy. She grinned.

"I am too, sweetheart." She began gently, for a moment becoming more keenly aware of the warmth inside her abdomen. "Of course. I've just got cabin fever." Nate leaned over her side of the bed and guided her down onto it, as had become their custom. "I've no baby to take care of just yet, no expensive dresses to wear and no cons to perform! I'm not even in a show! I've completely lost my mind."

She pulled the covers up over both of them and let out a sigh. He draped an arm over her stomach.

"If I let you come will you promise to be careful?"

"'If you let me?'" She quoted.

He kept his eyes fixed on hers. "I mean it."

"Alright, alright," she let her arm fall on top of his. "I promise to be _so_ careful." She finished earnestly.

"Thank you." Nate kissed his wife and flicked off the lamp, pulling her closer to him. He longed for tomorrow to be over.


	3. Chapter 3

The start of the con had gone impeccably well. Parker had made her way up to the penthouse and was presently downloading all of Larson's secrets, Hardison was playing what felt like chess with a Steranko's second cousin; constantly changing codes but no safeguards. Eliot was currently clearing out the basement hall for their exit, and it was all thanks to Sophie's brilliant tax auditor. Nate said to Hardison in the van, off coms, of course, that Sophie's current 'condition' made her twice as terrifying in the role. What they hadn't counted on was the security system's silent alarm triggered any time data was downloaded from the server. Hardison tried every override he could, but the damn thing couldn't be stopped and was going to trigger a lockdown.

"Guys, you got just over a minute to get the hell outta there." Hardison concluded.

"Where are we at?" Nate was not in the mood for surprises – they had been so close. But they retrieved the information they needed nonetheless; they were almost done.

"Parker, you should be about forty-five seconds to the roof, then you can take your time coming down. She'll be at the east door in about three minutes." Hardison relayed.

"Two and a half." Parker boasted, out of breath. Hardison smiled.

"Two guys and I'm out. I'll make it." Eliot yelled over the guttural screaming of his opponents.

"Sophie," Nate's voice had a sharpness to it. "You gotta get out of there."

"I can't just walk out the door. They think I'm doing a complete audit _today_." She hissed.

"Sixty seconds until the alarm kicks back in." Hardison chimed in.

"Sophie, get OUT."

"Alright, I have a plan. Nate, don't panic."

"I'm the mastermind Sophie, I don't pan—"

"Ouch!" Sophie screamed a bit louder than necessary to catch the mark's attention.

"What?!" Nate yelled into his com.

"What was that?" Larson jumped.

"Oh, it's nothing, it's – oh my god!" Sophie doubled over to sell the bit.

"A-are you in labor?" Larson's face was going white.

"Ow…I think I am, yes. Oh I'm so embarrassed." Luckily for Sophie, she hadn't slept through the part of the briefing that featured Betty Larson's only child upbringing and utter fear of children. Ironic, as her company governed standardized testing in Oregon, but definitely working to Sophie's advantage in this tight spot.

"I'm going to call you an ambulance –you!" She barked at a guard at the door. "Call 911. There's no way she's having that thing here! Just…don't – do – anything. Get her out!"

Back in Lucille, Hardison, while rerouting the 911 call to himself, noticed the brains of the operation. Rather than being pleased Sophie had found a way out, Nate was sitting, one arm barely succeeding at propping him up against the side of the van. He pressed his thumb and his forefinger into the bridge of his nose repeatedly, trying to stop the deafening pounding of his heart that filled his head. The color had drained from his face.

"I'm gonna kill her."

"There wasn't a better plan, man." Hardison tried to assuage him, "She's faked her death! Twice! Hell, this can't be as bad." But he too shuddered as sounds of Sophie's imagined labor rang out through their ear buds.

"Damnit Sophie." Nate cursed her for so obviously trying to give him a heart attack. He was approaching 50; it very well may have worked. He tried to breathe normally, with little success.

"Get it together Nate." Eliot hissed over coms as kicked the throat of a guard at the back door of the building. "She warned you. It's part of the job!"

Back in Larson's office, Sophie politely accepted the offer of water from the guard designated to watch her until the ambulance arrived. Through false labored breathing she rubbed her belly. The baby, in grifter solidarity, pressed her foot into her mother's hand. Once the coast was clear, Sophie smiled as she lifted one finger to her com to make sure _everyone_ could hear her.

"This is the best prop I've ever had."

Nate felt as though he was going to throw up.

Just minutes later, Eliot made his way back to the van where Nate was waiting for him with a paramedic uniform.

"Hardison and I got his." He noted Nate was already in costume.

"I tried, he wasn't hearing any of it." Hardison folded.

"You really think you're in any place to be – "

"Shut up." Spat Nate as he fumbled with his zipper.

Eliot chuckled and turned to Hardison, "Sophie broke the boss!"

"Not amused, Eliot. Hardison, hurry up."

"Hold your horses!" grumbled Hardison. "Give a boy 30 seconds to magically conjure up a damn ambulance!" With that the sound of sirens rang through the air and Eliot and Nate dismounted the van and marched towards the door.

"Oh man…" Eliot could barely keep from laughing.

"What."

"She got you good." Eliot shook his head. Nate would have considered a rebuttal if he hadn't been so completely correct.

They approached the front desk just in time. The lockdown process had begun.

"We got a call for an ambulance. Woman in, uh, labor." Nate couldn't quite get the word out of his mouth.

"Yes, yes, right this way." The secretary led the two men up the stairs to the fifth floor and into Larson's office. They could hear Sophie's 'contractions' halfway up floor three.

As they entered the room, the guard at the door was so happy to be relieved of his post that he bolted immediately. Sophie was clearly having a ball.

"This is the easiest con I've ever done!" She laughed quietly as Eliot helped her up. "Really, if you could have seen it – I mean my range! Completely Tony worthy. And totally off the cuff!" She saw her husband's face. "Oh don't look so blue. Enjoy the fun!"

Nate, not even remotely following her suggestion, wrapped an arm around her waist and threw her arm over his shoulder.

"Come on."

"Sour puss." Sophie purred.

Nate grumbled to himself, "I need a very large drink." Sophie rolled her eyes.

Eliot took Sophie's other arm. "Let's get out of here first."

They made it down the elevator, drawing plenty of unwanted attention as they reached the lobby.

"No, I don't want a wheelchair. I can make it." Sophie hollered to cover their lack of preparation.

They were about ten feet from the door when Nate felt Sophie lean into him and her nails bit ever so slightly into his back. And that's when it happened.

The three thieves froze. The two men looked down, Sophie's head shot up. Each was more surprised than the next. They knew she was the best, but could the grifter really have pulled that off? No props, no prep, no nothing? Nate raised his eyes slowly, speaking softly into her shoulder afraid any sudden move might blow their cover or worse -

"Soph...was that part of the plan?"

"Nate - " She breathed.

Nate took a moment to consider the look in her eyes as she turned to him. She was truly shocked. He didn't ever recall seeing her quite like that before. Hardison chimed in over coms.

"Guys, is everything okay? Guys!"

"So no, then." Nate whispered to his wife.

"No."

"Oh boy." Was all Nate could muster.

"Everyone out of the way, excuse me, this woman's water broke, she is in labor and we need to get her to the hospital ASAP!" Eliot hollered, taking charge and reinvesting in their characters, not that it was particularly difficult at this point. "Out of the way, out of the way," A guard protested, stopping them inches from their exit.

"We're in lockdown, sir."

"Well un-lock us down or you're going to have one hell of a mess on your hands. And that doesn't even include the lawsuit!"

Eliot's well chosen threat was as effective as a punch to the throat. The guard crumbled instantly, and out they went. The three of them looking like a broken Wizard of Oz reference, hobbled towards the side of the building where safety and the ability to speak freely awaited. Nate tried to keep their pace even and slow, but Sophie wanted out of there and fast. Hardison was waiting, door open, with a few questions he'd have liked answered.

"Yo – what the hell happened back there? I thought you guys were blown."

"Oh my god." Sophie sighed in relief.

"Unbelievable!" Nate finally released, climbing into the back of the van.

"Unbelievable? Me?!"

"You, Miss Devereaux, have reached new levels of impossibility!"

"What is really, and truly unbelievable –" Eliot helped her climb into the van. She took Nate's arm for support, but that didn't stop her, "- is that you've somehow infected your daughter with the same desire to undermine me as you have!"

"Now that's just ridiculous."

"How thrilled you must be at the way this turned out! I called a great shot, and you can't stand that a plan you had nothing to do with went so well! This must be so satisfying for you." She huffed, settling against the wall of the van, as far from her husband as she could get.

Nate looked right at her.

"Hormonal shrew." He spat. Sophie's eyes widened.

"Hardison, go get Parker." Eliot was done waiting.

"What in the hell is going on?"

"Just drive."

Hardison obeyed.

"My plan was flawless you complete and utter wanker! I've proven -"

"Oh no," Now Nate was fully engaged in this tete-a-tete. "The only flawless plan, the only thing proven here was that MY plan of you at home, in bed, with your feet up like I told you to was the right choice!"

"'Like you told me to.'" She echoed, full of spite. "Of course, because if you'd have kept me locked up in bed I'd never have gone into labor! I'd just stay pregnant forever! God you're stupid."

"Sophie, your water broke IN THE MIDDLE OF A CON!"

Hardison was now up to speed and nearly drove straight into the set of stairs Parker was running down.

"Her WHAT now?!"

"Dude!" Eliot grabbed the wheel just in time.

"People should not shout out things like that while a brother's behind the wheel. Damn."

"I mean really, Sophie, really, what were you planning to do? If that had happened twenty minutes earlier,"

"I'd have played it the same way and it would have been fine."

Parker hopped into the minefield that was the back of the van. She tossed the zip drive to the front seat.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Nate seemed to really be asking.

"Not yet, darling." Sophie's voice was sickeningly sweet. "If I were you'd be dead!"

"Guys, is it time for the little griftermind's birthday?!" Parker squealed.

"What? Parker what does that even-" Eliot didn't know where to begin.

"Well, Masterer sounds stupid." Parker explained. "Obviously." To their own surprise, Eliot and Hardison both got it, and they thought it was pretty clever.

"Whatever. Back to HQ, and step on it, Hardison. We're almost an hour away with traffic and uh, time is not exactly something we have an abundance of at the moment." Eliot was settling into his role as doctor.

"Excuse me Eliot, I'm pretty sure that's my call."

"Sorry Nate, only one thing you're in charge of today. And it ain't the con."

"Hey, I'm perfectly capable of –"

"That's the deal we made! I do the whole baby thing and you do the dad thing."

"But –"

"Poor little dictator. Lost all your power have you?" Sophie jabbed. Nate lost his temper.

"Sophie, I am trying to keep you safe! That is my only agenda. And you – you protest and challenge my authority in return! You're pregnant – my fault, fine – but priorities must change!" His fury dissipated a little, not completely, as he really saw her. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes were shut with force, and her bottom lip was being held captive by two of her teeth. That was her real pain face. Emotional or physical, that was her unmasked expression of agony. The first time he had seen it was when Eliot walked in on them that morning in San Lorenzo. The second was when a local gang had jumped in on their con; she had gotten her shoulder dislocated and had to finish out the con before Eliot could pop it back into place. The third time was right now.

"Sophie?" No response. She was angry. So was he. It was a space the pair was used to occupying. "Sophie, are you ignoring me or are you having a contraction?"

"Can't I do both?"

Parker gasped and covered her mouth to keep from squealing.

"Hand." Nate demanded.

"I'm fine."

"Sophie."

She so badly wanted to tell him to go to hell, to tell him what he could do with his damn hand. Instead, she conceded to the charm that was Nathan Ford and simply flipped her hand over on her thigh. He crawled across the van floor and sat next to her, taking her hand into his possession.

"Oh my god this is so exciting!" Parker burst.

As the pain trailed off, Sophie's eyes fluttered open and she took in Nate's features.

"Hi. " He whispered.

"You ready?"

"Nope."

She smiled, eyes sparkling.

"Neither am I."


	4. Chapter 4

Lucille crawled like a caterpillar through downtown. Hardison alternated between slamming on the gas and slamming on the break every block; traffic was a mess, but it made him feel like he was making progress. They had been in the car for almost an hour and the ride could not be over quick enough.

On the van floor, Sophie, whose forehead was already damp with sweat, pinned her hair up off of her neck.

"Beautiful." Nate said aloud referencing her slapdash hair-do.

"Eliot's right. I have broken you, haven't I?"

"Do you need anything? More water?" Nate changed the subject.

"Um, how about a bed?"

"Okay, anything inside the van."

"I can get you stuff too!" The thief squealed, practically from Sophie's lap.

"Thank you Parker." Sophie smiled. "Actually, I'd really appreciate if you could take off my damned heels."

"On it!" Nate and Parker yelled in unison.

"No, Mister Ford, you stay right here."

"How come I don't get to help?"

"You – you get to help…plenty…like right now." Sophie's brain shut down as a new level of contraction crept through her.

"Okay, Soph." Nate picked up her hand and held it tight.

"Ow, Nate – "

"I know, I know. Just breathe." She exhaled methodically.

"Not that – my hand. You are crushing my hand."

"Oh, okay, sorry about that. My bad." Nate released his grip, embarrassed.

Sophie ran a hand over her stomach.

"That one hurt."

"I'm sorry, I won't squeeze so hard next time."

"I'm talking about the contraction now, dear."

"Oh. Right. Of course"

"Yes." She scooted herself up the van wall a bit, wincing.

"Worse than the last one?"

"Much."

"Eliot!"

"Yeah, I heard her. Deep breaths, man." Eliot was already climbing out of the passenger's seat into the back of the van. He clapped a hand on Nate's shoulder before settling in front of Sophie. "Alright, the contractions are only about six minutes apart, but they're pretty regular. And traffic's not lettin' up so I wanna check you out, okay?"

"That's a little ah - public, don't you think?" Nate suggested. Sophie tossed her head towards him, arm now permanently atop her belly.

"Nate, on what planet did you actually think we'd have fewer than five people in the room for this?" She blew a stray piece of her hair out of her eyes.

"Fair." Nate agreed. "I just never pictured it in the back of the van."

"Oh hell no!" Hardison shouted into the rear view mirror. "Nobody is havin' a baby in Lucille!"

"Everyone just relax." Eliot resumed.

"And, uh, thanks for the concern, Hardison." Nate called over his shoulder.

Parker climbed into the front seat next to her boyfriend. "You're driving so slow."

"I can only get up to 40 before I hit more traffic! Plus, I'm trying not to get pulled over. And I'm freaking out!"

"Let me drive." The thief offered.

"NO!" Shouts echoed from the backseat.

"Fine!" Parker shouted back, crossing her arms in protest.

"Okay, Sophie, you good?" Eliot refocused on his patient.

"Yup," Sophie uncrossed her ankles and parted her knees as much as her skirt would allow. She had gotten over any hint of modesty in the doctor/patient game with Eliot months ago. Eliot had completed his training as soon as they found out they were expecting and had been her 'doctor' as he put it; 'midwife' as Nate put it, since the start. Checking into a public hospital was too risky; it required an airtight alias. Having an obstetrician also required a concrete long con. Nate had come to Eliot as the solution – after all, Eliot was the one person with whom they trusted their lives. Despite this confidence however, Nate still had a hard time watching the Casanova shove his hands up his wife's skirt. He chose to focus on the extenuating circumstances.

"Sophie you're wearing underwear." Eliot announced, annoyed.

"Well, yes." The grifter looked at the several pairs of eyes on her. "I did plan to do other things today besides give birth."

"I gotta take 'em off."

Nate sighed and hung his head. His reaction was not lost on Eliot.

"Unless you wanna do it, Nate." He dug into his friend, "Your jurisdiction and all."

"For god's sake, Eliot just take them off! We all know you've had enough practice!" Sophie yelled, calling out Eliot's many conquests.

"So many things wrong here…" Nate noted to himself.

"Be nice!" The doctor scolded the mother-to-be. Eliot deftly removed Sophie's underwear and handed them to her husband.

"Thanks." Nate was in complete disbelief. He shoved the undergarment in his pocket. Sophie paid him no attention, squirming again against the wall.

"Sophie, how long has your back been hurting like that?" Eliot asked.

She thought for a moment, still adjusting. Nate piped up.

"You asked me to get the heating pad at like four this morning."

"Uh huh."

"And it's gotten worse over the course of the day?" Eliot already knew the answer. He grabbed a box of latex gloves the team usually used for forensic characters.

"I mean it hurts. It's not sharp though, just a dull pressure." Sophie explained the pain away.

Eliot examined the grifter.

"Yeah, Sophie, you've been in labor all day. "

"Pardon?" Her eyes went wide. Nate's head snapped up.

"You're already at 5 centimeters. That back pain was the start of it."

"I told you –" Nate jumped on it, his wife merely worked on her back.

"Yes, yes you did dear."

"I knew I was right!"

"Nate can you please gloat _after _I'm done bearing your child?"

"Yeah, I think that'll be just fine." He took her hand, feeling a tad sheepish for his tangent.

"We got time before that happens though, right?" Hardison reasserted his concern.

"Damnit Hardison! Yes." Eliot's voice softened as he turned back to Sophie. "Baby girl looks good, almost ready to meet the team." She smiled at how sweet he was being with her. "Just keep breathing through those contractions, we'll be home soon."

The hitter's tenderness refocused the soon-to-be father. "Thanks, Eliot."

"Oh bloody hell." Sophie's fingers tightened around her stomach.

"Atta girl," Nate noted how Sophie's insane theatre breathing techniques were paying off. He admired how expertly she handled the pain.

"Ah - my back." She groaned.

"Okay, got it. Got it." He gently massaged circles into the base of her spine. Her head released forward, shortly afterwards the rest of her relaxed as well.

"Just go to your happy place! Mine has gold bars and bunnies."

Sophie was still catching her breath. "Thanks Parker."

After another half hour, which seemed like an eternity, Lucille came screaming around the corner and screeched to halt in front of the pub.

Eliot and Hardison exited the van first to help Sophie out. They opened the back door to find her face twisted up in the middle of another contraction. Eliot looked at his wrist.

"Right at five minutes, perfect timing."

"I think the driver should get a little recognition for that."

"Hardison you didn't crash, great freaking job." Eliot said through grinding teeth.

"Hey, I did some expert back road work there, you know –"

"You had nothing to do with the timing! You're not in charge of her uterus, man!"

"Uh, guys?" Nate grabbed their attention. The two younger men looked up from their bickering and remembered the task at hand.

"Okay, Soph, grab onto Eliot –" Nate instructed, one hand on her back as the boys each grabbed an arm. Sophie kept her breathing steady and deliberate, holding onto her protectors for support. "That's it," Nate encouraged, "easy does it…"

"Nate?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

They carefully succeeded in pulling Sophie out of the car. The boys slowly hoisted her to her feet; her belly led and her body followed. She found her legs beneath her with one hand draped over her stomach, one supporting her back.

"Oh hell!" Came her exasperated sigh, "God is punishing me for all the times I've faked this." Nate hopped out behind her and returned his hand to her back.

"Probably."

"Ass." She arched her back to relieve the pressure.

"Let's get you inside, please."

"God this is awful." Sophie whined.

"Yes it is."

"An agreement," the grifter observed, a hint of sarcasm behind her weary voice.

Hardison and a thrilled-to-help Parker aided in her climb up the stairs and into the pub. Eliot hung back a moment to grab Nate's attention. The mastermind had distress written all over his face. He also knew the hitter's intentions.

"I'm fine, really. She's the one you should be worrying about."

"Nate," Eliot voice came clear and firm "she's going to be okay. The baby is going to be okay."

"Yeah, I know, Eliot. I know that." Nate tried to brush it off.

"She needs you, man."

"I just – ah, one minute." Eliot put a hand on Nate's shoulder, forcing eye contact.

"Nate, do you know how many women do this every day who _aren't _Sophie Devereaux?"

Nate took a moment to consider this. He took a deep breath.

"Good point."

The two men closed the van doors and hurried inside.


	5. Chapter 5

_**AU, FYI. On we go...**_

"You're spectacular, Ms. Ford." Nate spoke to his wife in a low tone, his voice almost catching in his throat.

He had successfully gotten Sophie upstairs and gently helped her change into the pale green cotton and lace nightgown she had purchased in Paris, just for this occasion. He remembered that day as he lowered her onto the bed; it was the first trip they took after discovering she was pregnant.

She was almost five months along and Nate wanted to pamper her. Sophie Devereaux, however, was a woman of jet-setting, royal jewels, and priceless art and thus not quite so easily pampered as other women. Knowing this full well, Nate had whisked her off to France in the middle of the week on a private plane. The shopping, the food and the atmosphere were all perfect, seemingly for the two of them alone. But much to Nate's surprise, although they ate and enjoyed the scenery like he planned, all the shopping Sophie wanted to do was for the baby. Nate remembered her pointing out his charmed yet confused smile as she ran from store to store picking out nursery items and baby clothes rather than stilettos and fur coats. If he hadn't already known what kind of mother she would be, it became clear as day right then. This nightgown and one pair of shoes (at Nate's urging) were the only two items the grifter had purchased for herself on that trip.

"Mmm much better…" Sophie murmured as she sank into their bed, "much, much better." Her voice brought Nate back to the present day.

"Good. Here -" He grabbed a pillow from the other side of the bed and stuffed it behind her back. She smiled gratefully and melted further into the mattress. "I'm gonna go grab Eliot and get you some ice, okay?"

"Alright, darling." She half whispered in return, the fatigue already visible on her face.

Nate kissed her lightly and headed back to the living room. "Eliot, you're up." He informed the hitter on his way to the fridge. Eliot got up from where he had been sitting with Parker and Hardison, taking bets on baby names. He took Nate's place in the bedroom where got to work with the hospital equipment Parker had 'liberated' several weeks before.

Nate grabbed a glass and opened the freezer – no ice. They didn't even have an ice tray to make ice. He should probably have bought one, he thought, silently noting his stupidity. He closed the freezer door and strode downstairs.

He entered the mostly empty pub and headed straight for the kitchen door. A few moments later he emerged, cup brimming with ice, to find the pub was completely empty. He froze, the glass got colder in his hand. As he expected, four men in suits entered; two from the front door and two from the back.

"Not. Today." Nate growled at the man he knew was standing behind him.

"Oh I don't think you make that choice, Nate." Sterling slithered past him, knocking the glass.

"Not today, Sterling." Nate repeated, fury in his eyes.

"A little testy are we? This morning's job didn't go as planned?" Sterling chuckled knowingly, hands dangling in his pockets.

"Unless you're here to arrest me –"

"Wouldn't dream of it. I need your expertise. If anything I'd like to commend Sophie on her performance this morning. I almost believed she was really expecting."

"You and your thugs recall the way out, I'm sure." Nate gave him a brief nod and turned towards the staircase.

"You had better get your sense of humor in check, Ford. I'm here for a favor."

"I don't have any favors for you." Nate spat.

"Oh, I think you'll be able to find one lying around someplace. It's certainly in your best interest."

"Go to hell."

"Tsk tsk," Sterling scolded. "And what's this…" He grabbed Nate's arm and pulled it closer, eyeing something. Nate followed his gaze;

"It's a glass of ice." He snarled, knowing full well it was the gilded band on his finger and not the cup he was referencing. Without warning, Nate flung his free fist forward, colliding it squarely with Sterling's nose. Sterling stumbled back, his men advanced but he waved them off. He simply snickered as Nate retreated up the stairs.

"Temper, temper." He wiped the blood pooling on his upper lip. "Take your time." His voice dripped with patience.

Once he rounded the corner, Nate barked the hitter's name. "ELIOT!" He couldn't seem to get a hold on his breath – his chest pumped violently with no sign of ceasing. No, he wouldn't let that man anywhere near Sophie again, anywhere near their child. He didn't even know that – and if he found out he'd – his thoughts continued to spiral out of control as Eliot emerged from the bedroom, softly closing the door. "How is she?" Nate asked, rushed.

"She's fine. Seven centimeters, baby's heart rate's going strong. Sophie's fine," He repeated, reading Nate's face with mild confusion, "The pain just seems to piss her off." He tried a smile.

"Good." Eliot was not satisfied with this response.

"What are you yelling about, man? We talked about the soothing environment stuff, remember?"

"Sterling's downstairs."

Eliot took a moment. His brow furrowed, his eyes darkened.

"What?" The word escaped his lips like a bite.

"Get rid of him. Take Hardison."

"What man?" Hardison jumped up at the sound of his name.

"Sterling's in the pub." Eliot fumed.

"STERLING!"

"Shhh! Shut up!" The other two men snapped, eyes darting towards Sophie through the door.

As if on cue, an agonized cry rose out of the other room. Nate made a move towards it,

"Kill him if you have to. Just get him out!" His sinister countenance matched his voice. He walked into the bedroom.

"A-are we actually gonna…" Hardison stammered, suddenly terrified.

"No, idiot." He looked towards the door Nate had just walked through. "We're gonna make him wish we did."

Hardison liked this plan much better. The two boys prepared their attack and sauntered down the stairs, their goal was written all over their faces: protect.

"Hey guys, where are we going?" Parker's eyebrows inquisitively popped up, just now realizing that she was the only one left in the room.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm gonna go grab Eliot and get you some ice, okay?"

"Alright, darling." She half whispered in return.

Sophie smiled as she watched her husband leave the room. She loved watching him take control of a situation; in this instance she loved how frightened he could be at the same time.

As promised, Eliot arrived not a minute after Nate left. He examined her and hooked her up to the IV and fetal monitor Parker had stolen as a baby shower gift – her favorite baby shower gift.

Nate was taking an awfully long time, she thought, as she considered the probable number of steps from their room to the refrigerator. Was he actually making the damn ice? Did they even have an ice maker? She had no idea. Her mind drifted off, her fingers wandering lazily over her belly.

She floated back to the night this whole predicament began. Of course there was no way of proving exactly when the baby was conceived, but Sophie knew.

_She came downstairs in the middle of the night, knowing exactly where Nate would be – bellied up to the bar, drink in hand, looking at pictures of Sam. He did this every once in a while and she wordlessly encouraged it, knowing it was the closest he would ever get to coping. This particular night was not like every other where she would find him and silently sit by him, sometimes with a drink of her own, until he would get up, take her hand and lead her back to bed. No, on this particular night, she entered the bar and sat down in their usual arrangement, but was welcomed by Nate's voice:_

_"Sam would have loved you, Sophie."_

_She lost the feeling in her hands and in her feet. She forgot how to breathe as his eyes looked up at her, drowning in un-cried tears. She wanted to say "I love him too," or thank Nate for such a gift, or put together some unknown string of perfect words, but she couldn't make her mouth move. Nate seemed to hear her desire and slowly reached a hand to her head, tangling it in her hair. She found her fingers tracing his cheek. He pulled her to him, their lips touched, voicing a deep understanding. She felt him find comfort in her mouth, her neck, her skin. That night Nate took her right on the bar._

There was no doubt in Sophie's mind; out of that moment was their child created.

Sophie chuckled to herself how it hadn't been entirely intentional. It had definitely taken her some time to come to the beauty of the situation; she had been positively terrified when she found out…and for several weeks afterward.

_She had taken the test twenty days ago. They had visited the clinic sixteen days ago. She had hit the three-month mark five days ago. They still had not told the team. They had agreed to wait the two weeks after the doctor confirmed it, just to be safe. Still, even at three months, Sophie wasn't quite ready. Nate, on the other hand, was more than ready. It was two days before their next big job and the mastermind and grifter were finally having it out on the subject, upstairs, before the team joined them for the briefing. They were mid standoff: each holding court by their side of the bed. _

_"We have to tell them, Sophie!" Nate's face was already an amusing shade of red._

_"I can tell them whenever I please. It's not exactly their issue, now is it?" She crossed her arms._

_"Are you kidding? You don't think this is relevant to, oh I don't know, their lives? A con?!"_

_"Nate,"_

_"We need to keep you safe!"_

_"I can keep myself safe."_

_ "It's not just about you, Sophie!" Nate hollered back across the room. He lowered his tone. "It is your job to take care of the baby, it is my job to take care of you, and it's their job" he pointed to the room beneath their feet, "to take care of all of us!" _

_"I am not that fragile, thank you."_

_"God, will you listen to yourself? It's not about being fragile; it's about putting someone else before yourself!"_

_She paused, daggers darted out of her eyes. Nate realized his mistake._

_"I'm not saying you're selfish, Sophie, I just mean –" He was cut off by a book flying at his head. "What the hell!"_

_"How dare you say I put myself first, Nathan, how __**dare**__ you!" She shrieked. _

_"That's not what I meant!"_

_"You of all people should know what I have sacrificed for __**other people**__, you son-of-a-bitch!" She hurled another book from her nightstand. _

_"God, Sophie, cut it out!"_

_She paused again._

_"I am going to throw up now. Take this time to ponder how you could possibly be such a complete and total ass!"_

_She stormed into the bathroom and knelt by the toilet with as much dignity as was possible. Nate, after taking a moment to catch up, landed beside her just as she got sick. _

_"Oh Sophie…" He murmured apologetically, watching her body so vehemently refute her façade. She was terrified. He was too – beyond terrified. The only way he knew to deal with terror was either to enlist the help of the team or to drink. He had already tried the latter._

_"I'm fine." She stated, pushing herself to the floor. "I feel much better."_

_"Sophie,"_

_"Take a breath." She barked at him, her eyes closed in hopes of steadying her stomach. _

_"Don't tell me what to –" He remembered his purpose. "We can't hide this from the team." _

_"I'm not showing just yet," she spoke; a note of caution to her husband, "and we'll continue meeting in the afternoon. It will be fine." _

_"That's not really how morning sickness works, Soph." _

_"Shut up." She flushed the toilet, stood up slowly and made her way to the sink. She saw herself in the mirror. "After the con." The demand was released into the air; a challenge. She grabbed her toothbrush. _

_Nate stood behind her, signature smirk on his face. "We'll see." _

_Nate made it downstairs first, looking alarmingly pleased with himself. The other three were already there, poised for the meeting._

_"Everything okay up there, man?" Hardison asked carefully. _

_"Oh yeah." Nate assured the team._

_"You sure?" The hitter piped up, noting his friend's cryptic tone. "You guys were screaming pretty good."_

_"Somebody's got to keep him in check." Sophie's voice floated through the room as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her lips newly painted with Nate's favorite shade of red. For a brief moment, the duo smiled at each other; they were in familiar territory now. This battle was a reminder of all they were capable of as a pair. Sure they'd have to destroy each other first, but maybe, just maybe the dangerous twinkle in Sophie's eye and the threatening smirk on Nate's face was proof they could tackle this next challenge together. _

_"Can we start the briefing? I'm starving." Parker broke their moment, "Are you guys okay?"_

_"Yes Parker, we're fine." Sophie replied sweetly._

_"I'm pretty hungry too, actually," Nate made his first move, eyes lingering on Sophie. "Why don't we order some pizza?"_

_"Sweet!" Hardison grabbed the phone. "What do ya'll want?" _

_"A couple extra large pizzas," Nate began, "extra cheese, ground beef, pepperoni, bacon," He checked in with his wife, whose face had grown considerably paler as he listed every food that was newly proven to make her sick, "topped with__** extra**__ guacamole." Sophie's hand shot to her mouth. _

_"That sounds delicious!" Parker was practically drooling; the two men just stared. "That would be so good with a bunch of sour cream!" Sophie gagged. Nate grinned. Sophie took a slow breath and walked towards Nate._

_"Darling, don't you think you're a little old to be eating like a teenager? It'd be a shame if you got any fatter." Sophie poked a finger into her husband's rib._

_"Looks like you've put on a few pounds yourself." _

_The team froze, mouths gaping in shock. Sophie just flashed him a devious smile; it was a good move. She was perfectly aware of the six (exactly six) pounds she had gained in the last three months. She also knew that Nate had no complaints about where the majority of those pounds resided. Nonetheless, it had turned the team against him beautifully. _

_"Nate, what is your problem!" Parker was the first to come to her rescue._

_"Dude, you're not supposed to say stuff like that to a woman." Eliot explained with a palm on his face. _

_"Nah," Nate began, enjoying the grift. "Sophie loves hearing that."_

_"Why don't we get back to ordering lunch?" Hardison asked slowly, unsure of how to fix what Nate had just broken. He then proceeded to repeat Nate's, and now Parker's, insane order. Sophie unsuccessfully tried to cover another gag with a cough. _

_"Sophie, are you okay?" Eliot called her on it._

_"I'm fine." Sophie's words shot in Nate's direction as she silently noted the location of the nearest trash can. _

_"No, sweetie, you don't look very well." Nate used her most despised pet name._

_"Okay, what the hell is going on?" Hardison caught the character too._

_"Nothing is going" Sophie inhaled slowly to quell her mounting nausea, "nothing is going on. Nate's just being Nate." She added._

_"He's not usually __**that**__ big a jerk." _

_"Thanks Parker." Nate said with abundant sarcasm. _

_"Go on, Nate. Brief us." Sophie dared him._

_"What the hell's up with you two!" Eliot hated when they did their 'secret bullshit dance' as he so fondly referred to it._

_"Like Sophie said," Nate hurried over to the kitchen, wheels turning and aggravation mounting, "absolutely nothing." He opened the fridge and rummaged through until he had found what he wanted. "I'm just gonna have an appetizer before our cheesy, meaty, guacamole smothered pizza arrives." And with that, he opened a box of leftover Chinese food and shoved it into the microwave. As planned, the smell was wafting through the loft in seconds._

_"Oo!" Parker yelped as Sophie's stomach churned, the color completely drained from her face. "Do you think they make Chinese food pizza?"_

_"Oh yeah, Parker!" Nate strode back to the table, directly towards Sophie. "A whole greasy pizza covered in mu shu pork and beef teriyaki and fried cream cheese crab rangoon!"_

_"You horrible, wicked man!" Sophie cursed and darted towards the bathroom. Nate smiled, victorious._

_"Nate, she's not okay! What is wrong with you?" Eliot yelled at Nate's grin. _

_"Eliot, she's fine." He stated simply, still enjoying his win._

_"Hardison, get her some water." Eliot ignored the mastermind and followed Sophie._

_"Guys, it's okay –" _

_"Jerk." Parker said as she followed suit. _

_"Damnit –" Nate hurried to the bathroom as his plan backfired._

_"Nate, she's definitely sick!" Eliot yelled as Nate pushed past him to get to Sophie on the bathroom floor. Hardison returned with a glass of water and joined the other two in the doorway._

_"She really doesn't look fine, man. Nasty." Hardison cringed as Sophie vomited a second time._

_"Gross." Parker smiled, intrigued."But yeah, not fine."_

_"Does everyone really need to watch me empty the contents of my stomach?" Sophie said sharply. "Nate, turn off the goddamned microwave!" She dry heaved into the toilet bowl before vomiting again._

_"I'm starting to feel like I wanna punch you." Eliot warned Nate._

_"Guys, calm down. It's okay."_

_"Bullshit!" Came the hitters reply._

_"Morning sickness is totally normal in –" Nate stopped himself. Sophie pulled her head out of the toilet just long enough to land a fist into his chest. "Okay – that was my bad." Sophie spit into the toilet bowl before turning on her husband._

_"Cheater!"_

_"I admit that wasn't fair. It was an accident." He agreed. He couldn't help but add, "But I still won."_

_"Nathan Ford so help me god, I swear – " _

_"Hey!" __Eliot cut them off. _The pair snapped out of their bickering to find three sets of expectant eyes aimed their way. _"Sophie, are you?"_

_Nate and Sophie looked briefly at each other. Sophie wiped at the corner of her mouth and sighed as she looked at her lap._

_"Yes. I am …" She knew she had to say the word, "Pregnant. I'm pregnant."_

_Silence._

_"Oh. My. GOD!" Parker shrieked, a sound that echoed throughout the small bathroom._

_"That's amazing." Hardison smiled, after his ears had stopped ringing._

_Sophie, who was quickly trying to hide the tears that immediately invaded her vision, finally breathed out._

_"How long?" Eliot's face remained stone. Now it was Nate's turn to exhale._

_"Three months." He said, "We've known for a few weeks. Had to, uh, work through it first."_

_Eliot thought for a moment. He looked at the beaming friends by his side, he looked at the relief in Nate's face, and then he looked at Sophie. She looked at peace._

_"Nate, now I'm definitely gonna punch you." Eliot smiled, a small laugh accompanying it. "We're havin' a baby!" _

_There were cheers from all three. Nate laughed and took Sophie's hand in his, one finger at a time. He squeezed tight. They were alright; their family was alright, just growing. He kissed her temple._

_Hardison retrieved the iPad so Nate could brief them all on the bathroom floor. Sophie experienced the first real wave of excitement while her head was on Nate's shoulder, watching Parker watch her. The younger woman's exhilarated giggling reminded her that she was the farthest thing from alone._

A contraction jolted Sophie out of her daydream. Caught off guard, a cry instinctively escaped her mouth. Already one breath behind, she struggled to catch up to the pain, her fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Where the hell is Nate?" She muttered furiously to herself. The door swung open.

"I'm right here, Soph."

"How the hell do you do that?" She yelled, preferring to focus her pain induced anger on him.

"I'm the mastermind." He hummed by her ear, taking her hand. Sophie got a hold of her breathing and rode through the remainder of the contraction. As the ache wore off, she became aware of Nate's eyes fixated on the door. She opened her mouth to reprimand him for not focusing on her, but then she saw his face. That was the look he wore when they were working a con. Something was wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Picking up right where we left off…_**

Sophie studied Nate's worried expression – there was obviously more behind his eyes than a husband's concern for his wife. She also noticed that his com was still in place. It could be he just hadn't removed it from the job earlier, or… Sophie produced a grimace as an excuse to close her eyes; she didn't hear the three people who were supposedly sitting in the next room. 'Damn,' she thought, as she mentally willed her earpiece to appear in her hand. She didn't know where it had gotten to after the con, but she had a pretty good guess.

"Darling, my back is killing me, could you help me up?" She asked her husband.

"Up?" Nate froze. "W-where do you wanna go?"

"I just want to walk around the room, the movement helps." Sophie explained impatiently.

"Okay…"

"Nate, just help me." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed so he had no choice. He grabbed her arm as she stood. She clung to him tighter than intended when she unhappily realized how weak her legs felt.

They took a few steps around the room; Sophie counting seconds and Nate doing everything in his power to stop looking at the door. Both were failing miserably. Sophie eyed the time; she recognized that she would probably regret this. Like clockwork, just over 4 minutes from the last one, Sophie's body was engulfed in that newly familiar pain. Nate's head snapped to her immediately and braced himself to keep her upright. Battling to keep a part of her brain active, Sophie forced air in and out of her mouth. Her fists clenched. She didn't fight his whispered encouragement; she just let him hold her.

As soon as he felt her relax into him he said,

"That's enough standing." He felt an odd amount of safety in the idea of his wife tucked in bed.

"Okay," She exhaled, new beads of sweat forming on her forehead. He lowered her gently back to bed. He frowned, feeling the fragility of his usually Amazonian wife.

"Are you doing alright? Do you need anything? Do you want me to get Eliot?" Nate mentally kicked himself as his worry won out against common sense – his wife's OBGYN was currently two floors below beating the hell out of thugs with guns; he had been listening to it the entire time. No, Eliot wasn't really an option right now.

"No, I'm fine. As fine as can be expected, anyway." She took a chance. "Nate, is something wrong?"

Nate, who was too busy thanking god that she hadn't wanted Eliot in that moment, didn't respond fast enough.

"Nate, darling, is something wrong?" Though she was sure she had her answer.

He saw the concern in her face; concern for him. She was right all along, he was an ass.

"No, Soph. Everything's fine. Everything is okay as long as you're okay." Nate's tightly pulled lips bowed up in a small smile as a version of the truth escaped his mouth despite himself.

"I love you." Sophie whispered.

"I love you too." He kissed her, and for mere seconds the pair only saw each other.

That moment soon subsided.

"Do you want to get something to eat, dear? You must be starving. You haven't eaten since we left this morning." Sophie offered, carefully.

"Nah, I – well, sure. Yeah, I probably should grab a bite." Nate scratched his head in fake contemplation; grateful as hell for a way out of the room. "If you're good."

"I'll be just fine."

He kissed her hand and left the room as quickly as he could make seem natural. What he had heard over coms was far less promising than he had hoped and he needed to get back downstairs.

As the door clicked shut, Sophie unclenched her right hand and smiled, devilishly.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Nate made it halfway to a full sprint before realizing Eliot, Hardison and Parker were standing in the living room. For a moment he felt calm, but then he noticed the boys had clearly encountered some resistance from the men downstairs.

"What happened?"

"Six more men out back." Eliot winced, "Four out front." He shifted the icepack on his shoulder.

"Parker saw them first, or we'd be looking much deader right now." Hardison added.

"I'm good at everything! I don't know why you didn't clue me in in the first place." She smacked Nate.

"Keep it down! I'm sorry Parker. But it's really important we, ah, keep this to ourselves." Nate was centered on the bigger issue. The team nodded in understanding.

"And deader's not a word." Parker snapped at her boyfriend. Nate looked carefully at the three faces in front of them. Incredulous at what he found, he finally asked;

"He's still here, isn't he?!"

"Down to two conscious bodyguards." Parker offered, "But yeah, still here."

"He says he has a 'job' and won't talk to anyone but you. He also said he'd kill us before he'd leave which is, you know, awesome." Hardison sneered.

"Well _someone_ wouldn't let me kill the bastard!" Eliot muffled a yell through gritted teeth.

"Eliot, I _suggested_ it." Nate said as he ran his hands through his hair, exasperated that this war was far from over. His mind was reeling.

"Not you." Eliot glared at the hacker standing across from him. Hardison jumped on the defensive.

"Hey man, a dead Interpol officer in our pub is way worse than just dealing with whatever Sterling wants!"

"**_STERLING!_**"

Sophie's unbridled shriek stopped them all in their tracks. She couldn't possibly have heard them, they were being so quiet - suddenly Nate's hand flew to his side. He replayed the last several minutes with Sophie in his head – question, standing, contraction, fist, food. In the midst of active labor, the grifter had performed a perfect lift and reclaimed her com from his pants pocket. He was speechless. Another horrific screech tore through the loft and each of their ears; they all recoiled in pain.

"**_NATHAN FORD!_**"

"Well fuck." Nate's eyes were colossal, his face was white.


	8. Chapter 8

"**_NATHAN FORD!_**" The shrill blast encompassed the loft a second time.

They all just stared a moment, eyes fixed on Nate. Finally Eliot spoke.

"Oh this is good. " He broke the circle and moved towards the bedroom door.

"Whoa whoa whoa, where are you going?" Hardison tried to stop him.

"We tried to keep her out of it, we failed. Game over. She doesn't need this right now."

"Let me do it." Nate said. He turned towards the door and passed in front of the boys. Parker popped up behind his shoulder as he paused.

"Do you think her head's gonna spin all the way around or just do a 180?" She asked.

"All the way. No doubt."

Nate took a breath and opened the door, the other three close behind him. None were prepared for the sight they encountered.

"Sophie, what the **_hell_**!"

The grifter lay in bed, right where Nate had left her. She was propped up by pillows, a few stray locks of hair were matted to her face. Yes, besides the gun she aimed firmly at her husband's head, Sophie looked like an average woman in labor.

"Holy shit! Jesus!" Eliot and Hardison yelled.

"Definitely a 360." Parker muttered.

"Sophie where did you get a gun?" Nate realized after speaking that this was not the most pressing question.

"Oh please, you wanker, I've known you were the sort of man to keep a gun by your nightstand from the day we met."

"Alright, let's just talk about this sweetheart –"

"Yeah, why don't we?" She hollered crassly. "And you should probably spit it out…another contraction and my hand could slip…"

"Yes, yes it could." A smirk crept onto Nate's face as he noticed how this was the exact same woman he been instantly infatuated with all those years ago. Sophie cocked the gun and his smirk vanished. "I didn't want you to worry about Sterling, Soph. We're handling it."

"Shut up!" She screamed, considering whether or not she felt like firing. "1. How long has Sterling been downstairs? 2. What in the name of god does he want? 3. Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"May I answer?"

"Don't tempt me, Nate."

"Alright; 1. He's been downstairs for about two hours, pretty much since we got home. 2. Apparently 'a favor' of some sort. And the answer to your last question is pretty self evident right now, don't you think?"

Sophie's breathing picked up. She didn't move. Eliot stepped into the room.

"Sophie, I'm gonna take the gun now."

Eliot expertly obtained the gun. The second he had it, tears immediately started streaming down Sophie's face.

"OW!" She wailed as Nate took her hand. "You son-of-a-bitch!"

"You can tell where I'd keep a gun, but you're just now realizing that I'm an asshole? Come on, Soph." He gently teased her out of fear; watching droplets of water pouring freely from her eyes was far scarier to Nate than her wielding a weapon.

"Eliot," She whimpered, her breathing still coming hard and fast, her hand glued to her husband's. This time the pain didn't seem to want to stop.

"Alright, Sophie, I got you." Eliot returned to his post at the end of the bed, but not before emptying the gun. "You feeling some pressure?"

"More than some! Yes – god – I want to push." Her head flung back, straining into the pillow behind her.

"Okay, hold on, hold on."

The contraction finally subsided. Sophie's breathing eased a bit, but her hand refused to loosen its grip. Nate leaned on the bed frame, suddenly lightheaded.

"Well, darlin'," Eliot continued, "Next contraction you can push all you want."

"Really?" Sophie's voice was weak.

"Ten centimeters. Phase two." Eliot grabbed a towel beside him.

"Oh my god." Sophie hummed.

The quiet excitement of the group was interrupted by a bang on the floor from beneath them. It had come from downstairs.

"God DAMNIT!" Nate swore and kicked the wall.

"Nate, listen to me-" Sophie's eyes lit up. "We each have our part in this, right? Your part is to protect your child. At present, from Sterling. Go downstairs and get rid of the bastard. My part is right here." Silence. "Nate?"

"Man, you've got time. This isn't the movies, most women push for hours." Eliot offered.

"I want to be here." Nate's voice shook.

"You will be. You play your part," With a sharp intake of breath, Sophie was at it again. Focused as hell, she kept her eyes on Nate despite the pain. "and I'll play mine."

"Sophie,"

"Nate, I will be fine." She spoke clearly and forcefully. Nate believed her.

"Fine. Fuck. Fine. Okay. Thinking. I'm thinking. A plan. I need a –" His eyes brightened. He kissed Sophie's head and moved towards the door. "Alright, Eliot, you're gonna stay here."

"You think?"

"Hardison, you're with me. We're gonna need a few things. Parker?"

"Yup?"

"Be my hand."

"Got it."

Parker smiled as Nate and Hardison left the room in a whirlwind. She was instantly at Sophie's side and presented her hand.

"I'm stronger than Nate. You can squeeze harder."

"Thank you Parker," Sophie forced from her lips.

"This is so exciting!" Parker whispered.

"Feeling slightly different emotions on this end, dear."

"Alright, Sophie, push!"

In the other room, Nate tried not to hear Sophie scream. He tried even harder to pretend it couldn't be heard from downstairs. Hardison could feel Nate's rare distress. He clapped a hand onto his shoulder.

"Three Card Monte, baby!"

"It's all I could come up with." Nate was focused on the table in front of them.

"Your dad's favorite. That's nice, man, a tribute to _your_ dad on the day you-"

"Only if it works, Hardison." Nate let out a long, slow breath. "Only if it works."

After a half hour of planning and collecting props, the hacker and the mastermind descended the stairs. They found Sterling lounging with his feet up on a table, his now three conscious bodyguards were not happy.

"Looks like someone's finally ready for our chat."

"Actually, no."

"I told you that's not the answer I was looking for." Sterling scolded as he stood, annoyed.

"Nate, just do what he wants and he'll leave." Hardison said, running a hand down his face. "I'm sick of saying that, man."

"I'm not going to be doing any more favors for you, Sterling."

"I'll bite. Why not?"

"Because I'm going to give you an arrest and then we'll be even."

"Are you now? After all you've done to stay out of prison, you're going to turn yourself in?"

"No. Not me." Nate grabbed Hardison's hands, there was a cold click of metal. He lunged at him, his forearm snaked around his throat.

"What – Nate, what the hell?" Hardison's eyes doubled in size.

"Officer Sterling, Alec Hardison." Nate tossed one of Sterling's men a hard drive. "Everything is there – streaming security feeds, government secrets, financial statements. Everything you need to take him down." Nate's eyes were dark. His face more sinister than either man watching had seen.

"Nate, what the fuck are you doing, this isn't part of the plan." Hardison half whispered.

"No it's not. But I'm done. I want to be done. And I can find another hacker."

"You son-of-a-bitch! I thought I was your partner!"

"No, you thought I was your friend." Nate's eyes were fixed on Sterling. "And that was your mistake."

"Hold up, hold it." Sterling dismissed their argument with his hand. "You want me to believe that you're actually giving me Hardison? Just because you don't want to run a little errand? I don't buy it Nate. And that's not like you."

A muffled scream seeped through the ceiling. Nate could feel his palms and his forehead get cold and start to sweat.

"What was that?" Sterling asked. "Who's upstairs?"

"Eliot. He's torturing our newest mark." Nate was shaking, his arm still around Hardison's throat.

"I see." Sterling eyed his former friend. His face softened the slightest bit. "Boy or girl?"

Nate stared at him.

"The mark is a woman."

"Right." Sterling fingered the corner of the table as he thought. After a moment, he motioned for his man to drop the hard drive. "Nate, let him go."

"He's all yours." Nate shoved Hardison forward. Sterling smirked.

"Stay out of trouble. Stay out of my way." He tossed a small object onto the table. "'Til next time, Ford."

Sterling left, followed by his thugs. Once the sound of the closing door signaled safety, Nate picked up the object that had been left on the table.

"It worked," Hardison began, "a plan so haphazard that Sterling would know something was wrong. Worked like a charm!" No response. "Nate?"

Nate turned to his friend, Sterling's cigar between two fingers. He looked it over.

"It's a shame he's such an ass. The bastard is wickedly smart."

"Huh." The pair considered the artifact for a moment. Nate shoved the cigar into his pocket and led the dash upstairs.

Nate could feel the sense of relief that filled the bedroom as he burst through the door. Sophie's hand reached for his and he united them as quickly as was physically possible.

"How we doing?" He whispered.

"**SHUT UP!**" Sophie responded with a scream that lasted the duration of the contraction. The few seconds she had between pushing was spent gasping for air. Nate just pressed his lips to her temple and left them there. He could feel the exhaustion on her and cursed himself for leaving her alone – but she wasn't really alone. He looked around the room, Parker at Sophie's side, Eliot at the foot of the bed, Hardison in the corner trying not to pass out; their team.

"Okay, Sophie, I can see her head. This is it, a couple good ones and she'll be here." Eliot encouraged, all the focus and command he usually reserved for ending a life was now being poured into beginning one.

Nate squeezed his grifter's hand and Sophie pushed. Nate smiled as she condemned him to thirty-two specific deaths; it was the only way he could tell she was okay:

_"I'll give you up to Sterling! I'm going to divorce you and then cut your bloody balls off! I've contracted Eliot to murder you when this is over!"_ And Nate's favorite:

"_I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU IN PARIS!"_

Under any other circumstances he would have shouted back, or left the room, or poured a drink. But in this moment Nate stayed right where he was, his lips pressed into her hair. And he murmured how much and how long he had loved her. He hummed all the things about her that made him smile. He purred her name – every name he knew her by – over and over again.

Finally, she stopped. The room, it seemed, stopped with her. There was a deafening moment of silence. And then most beautiful, piercing cry rose up and filled the room. Nate cut the cord, Eliot cleaned the baby and wrapped her in the yellow swaddling cloth Sophie had picked out. Nate returned to Sophie's side and Eliot followed and placed the baby on her mother's chest.

"Meet your baby girl." Eliot smiled and stepped back.

Sophie wrapped an arm around the little girl. She silently counted her fingers and toes. She brushed a finger against her cheek.

"Hello little one." Her voice was a delicate whisper.

She gratefully relaxed as Nate reached up to hold her head in his hand. She beamed down at the tiny being before her. She lifted her eyes to meet her husband's, and found Nate was crying. Freely, unabashedly, Nathan Ford bawled as he took in the sight of their daughter. Feeling his distress, the baby cried too. "It's alright," Sophie cooed to both of them. Nate slipped a finger into his daughter's hand, and his tears slowed. His eyes met Sophie's and they smiled. Their smiles warmed up into giggles, and soon they had both burst out into a fit of joyful laughter. Nate leaned over and took Sophie's lips with his own. He looked up into the room to find all three of their companions had tear-streaked cheeks.

Carefully, Parker spoke.

"What's her name?"

"Oh," Sophie wiped at her cheek, unable to take her eyes off her daughter. "Her name is Katharine Sabrina Devereaux Ford."

"But Devereaux's not even your real last name."

Nate brushed a lock of raven hair behind Sophie's ear as he answered;

"It's the last name of the woman I fell in love with."

Parker smiled and folded herself into Hardison's arms.

"Eliot," Nate turned to the man responsible for both of the lives he held in his arms. He had no words.

"I know." Eliot placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Nate – " Sophie breathed. He turned to her, and she held their daughter out to him. He enveloped the baby in his arms and held her close.

Nate cradled the baby back and forth as he listed all the parts of Sophie Devereaux in miniature before him. Her mouth, her chin, her heart-shaped face. But she had his eyes – Sam's eyes.

"Hi Kate." He spoke softly. "Meet your family."


	9. Chapter 9

_Fifteen years later._

Kate Ford pedaled as fast as she could down an alley, the hot sun beaming down on her and the sound of sirens gaining ground behind.

"Shit." She muttered to herself as she passed an abandoned car. Her father was still making her wait until her next birthday to get her license 'like everybody else.'

She refocused on the task at hand as the end of the alley came into sight. "Plan B!" She announced to herself and hopped off her still moving silver bike. Shoving it to the side, she whipped off her helmet and threw it in the direction of the bicycle. Relishing in their freedom, her black curls exploded behind her as she broke into a dead sprint. She tossed her backpack into a dumpster and made a dive for the top of the concrete wall at the end of the alley. She hoisted herself up, her knee snagged on a jagged stone; she kept going, sacrificing her jeans and some skin.

She succeeded getting over the wall, she picked up speed again but was cut off almost immediately by two cars. Six officers appeared and Kate instinctively brought her fists to her face. She was taught that you never punch a cop unless you're prepared to take them all; when she heard another car to her left, she was not. "Damnit." She spat and threw her hands into the air, her bright blue eyes sparkling in the police lights.

After having been left alone in interrogation for what felt like hours, Kate was starting to lose her patience. It was really hard to con no one and she needed to get home. She was plotting a rouse to get someone's attention when the door flew open and a scruffy, annoyed looking man entered the room. He introduced himself and demanded her name.

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"Well it certainly doesn't look that way, Miss…"

"I'm a minor. I heard the cop cars and freaked, so I ran."

The man stared at her.

"You didn't steal the Matisse hanging in th-?"

"Not unless it'd fit in my shoe." She kicked her sneakered feet onto the table.

He eyed her carefully. The smirk didn't leave Kate's face. He leaned in and spoke slowly.

"What's your name?"

"Bob." She flashed him a toothy grin. He continued to stare. "I'm a minor," she repeated, enjoying the affect she seemed to be having on him.

"You look awfully familiar." He shifted his gaze back to his folder.

"I've never been to Interpol before."

"Then why won't you tell me your name?"

This time she leaned in.

"My dad told me never to talk to strangers."

"I think it's because you have something to hide."

Kate laughed and brushed a curl behind her ear. This was definitely a worthy opponent. With a jolt she suddenly remembered the severity of her situation,

"I have to pee." She clumsily flung her feet to the floor.

He closed his folder and tossed it on the table.

"You're a precocious little…thing, aren't you?"

"I wet the bed til I was twelve." She lied through folded arms.

"Fine, go." He begrudgingly rose and opened the door. A guard stepped aside, awaiting instruction. "Escort her to the ladies room. Do not let her out of your sight."

Kate was escorted a little rougher than she appreciated. She pressed on, desperately looking forward to the solace the restroom offered. Her pace was thwarted by a tug on her sweatshirt.

"Hey!" She spun around. "That's my favorite sweatshirt, you gorilla."

The guard responded by tugging harder on her hood then shoving her into the bathroom door.

"Two minutes." He snarled.

Kate stepped inside and pushed the door closed. Instinctively she checked under the door for feet and, finding the coast to be clear, ducked into the stall farthest from the door and shoved her hand into her pocket then up to her ear.

"Guy?! Guys?" She whispered frantically, hearing her voice grow shakier as she spoke. Nothing. "Shit, someone please answer…please please pl-"

"Kate?" A voice came through her earbud.

"Dad!"

"Kate, we said no coms at school." Nate chided as he stood up from the helm of the boat. "Go back to –" He checked his watch. "Science class."

"Dad, I'm not exactly in school…"

"What?"

"I, I kinda need your help."

Nate sighed and tapped his wife's knee, who was lounging by the boat's edge, enjoying a mimosa. Sophie's eyebrows perked up, she popped her own com into her ear.

"What did you do?" Nate was not in the mood to mess around.

"Why would you assume that I did something?" Kate viciously whispered back.

"You called _us_, darling!" Sophie said, knowing too well the tone in her daughter's voice.

"Okay okay, I may have gotten a little bit arrested."

On the other end of the conversation, Nate ran his fingers through his hair.

"City or state police?" He asked.

"Neither…"

Nate stopped pacing. His voice was harsh.

"Katherine, where are you?"

There was a bang on the bathroom door. The sound scared the truth out of Kate.

"Interpol! Fine, I'm at Interpol downtown."

Sophie spit a mouthful of her drink onto the floor.

"Mom?"

"Who picked you up?" Sophie asked, shaking the liquid off her arm.

"Some jackass, it's not that big a deal."

"Who is interrogating you?" Nate was losing his temper.

"Dad, I just need a –"

"Katie, sweetheart, this is very important." Sophie cut her off. "Can you describe who's been talking to you?"

"I don't know! He's short. And stupid.

"Kate, what is his name?"

"I don't remember!"

"Kate, is he British?"

"Yes. So?"

Nate and Sophie locked eyes.

"Sterling." They said in unison.

Nate darted to the helm.

"Kate, you know all of those stories we've told you about my old partner slash arch nemesis who became the world's largest Interpol-pain-in-my-ass?"

The realization washed over Kate like a wave of nausea. "Oh god."

"GET OUT OF THERE!"

Another bang on the door and some disgruntled noises came muffled through the door.

"Get out of there now," Sophie echoed her husband's fervor.

"I'm in the bathroom on the sixth floor, where do you want me to go?!"

"Airduct above the middle stall." Parker replied.

"Parker!"

"Where are you?"

"The Louvre. Hardison, is it the blue or the green wire?" Parker seemed unmoved by the barrage of questions.

"Green, baby. Green all the way." Came his smooth reply.

"What are you guys doing?" Kate asked.

"Can we focus please?" Nate kicked the boat into high gear.

"Does this mean you want me to pick up the boys again?" Came Eliot's annoyed entrance into the conversation.

"Parker, you were supposed to talk to Eliot!" Hardison's voice was now less at ease.

"Well…I remembered the parachute, I can only do so much!"

"Hardison, we talked for like a whole hour yesterday! Coulda mentioned, oh I don't know, 'Heading to Paris tomorrow, would you please keep our children alive?' Come on!"

"So…is that a yes?" Hardison asked delicately, glad even Eliot's punches couldn't span countries.

"Yes. Of course it's – yes. I'm not gonna leave 'em stranded."

"Thank you."

"But I'm totally teaching them dropkicks after dinner."

"I think that's fair." Parker agreed.

"Aw man! Come on, he's gonna turn 'em into an army of terror and pain. An army that sleeps across the hall!"

"LISTEN UP!" Nate hollered, his eyes burning holes in the horizon as he raced towards shore. "Parker, talk Kate through the air ducts to the roof."

"The roof!" Kate squealed.

"Don't worry, love. Just listen to Parker. She's done this at least twice before." Sophie cooed.

"Good old sixth-floor bathroom." Parker reminisced, her smile permeating her voice. "Okay,"

As Parker explained every step Kate needed to take, Sophie took her husband's arm.

"It was only a matter of time I suppose…"

"I mean Interpol, yeah, but Sterling? What are the odds?"

They looked at each other.

"She's your daughter." Sophie shrugged and looked back to the waves. "And I've learned that Sterling seems to be magnetically drawn to people named Ford."

"Hey, what about last fall?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you recall how she secretly enrolled herself in private school for three months under the name 'Marissa Franklin' just to get that boy Joey Whatever to ask her out?"

"I vaguely remember…"

"_That_," Nate began, "has Devereaux written all over it."

"So by all accounts she should be perfectly equipped to get out of this on her own."

"Yeah, but by all accounts," Nate pressed the throttle forward, "she's gonna get in much deeper first."


End file.
